


Eyes Wide Open, I Can't See

by ember_firedrake



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: First Time, M/M, One Shot, Plot What Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-15
Updated: 2011-02-15
Packaged: 2017-10-15 16:29:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/162703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ember_firedrake/pseuds/ember_firedrake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a long and exhausting job, Danny realizes something that should have been obvious.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Eyes Wide Open, I Can't See

Really, Danny should have seen this coming. He was a detective, after all; he was trained to notice these sorts of things. He should have noticed the way Steve watched him when he thought no one was looking. He should have recognized that “Book ‘em, Danno” was a term of endearment long before it had been spelled out as such. He should have seen the fond smile of affection Steve got whenever Danny did something of questionable legality, as though he was proud of the corrupting effect he was having.

(The way Steve’s eyes seemed to soften whenever Danny talked about Gracie.)

(The way those same eyes became guarded if Danny talked about missing New Jersey.)

(The giddy, boyish, _gleeful_ grin that passed over Steve’s features whenever Danny embraced some new aspect of Hawaiian life. Which usually included the loss of his tie.)

Danny _should_ have seen it coming, and yet…

And yet.

Somehow, he had found himself relinquishing the keys to the Camaro more often than not. Somehow, terms of endearment—if you could call them that, “babe” and “Steven”—had slipped from his own mouth with a comfortable ease. Somehow, his arguments with Steve had become far more than actual disagreements. Somehow, he had found himself creating names for all of Steve’s facial expressions and feeling a bizarre sense of accomplishment whenever he catalogued a new one.

Without quite knowing how it had come about, Danny knew his way around Steve’s kitchen as though it was his own. He had insinuated himself into Steve’s life, feeling a fierce sort of protectiveness regarding Steve’s injuries, and caring far too much about his home security system. Maybe that was because Danny found himself spending more time at Steve’s house than at his own apartment.

Perhaps most frightening of all, he was less frustrated when Steve went into his Super SEAL Badass Ninja mode. No, more often he found himself feeling a rush of something like adrenaline, heady and powerful.

It was like something was pulling him, slow and inexorable, and he no longer felt compelled to fight it. He could see where it was going, but not quite where it all led.

Danny suspected, though, it had something to do with a particular facial expression of Steve’s, when he smiled more with his eyes than with his mouth, and his entire face seemed to light up.

(Danny couldn’t remember the first time he had seen it, though he had quickly dubbed it Steve’s “I’m-a-giant-doofus” face. He had been seeing it more often lately, however, and wondered if perhaps that wasn’t the correct name for it. If maybe “I-don’t-hate-you-as-much-as-I-thought-I-did-and-I-enjoy-the-pleasure-of-your-company-too” might be more appropriate.)

(Or maybe that was the face Danny had found himself giving Steve in return.)

That wasn’t the face Steve had right now, tense and wide-eyed from too many close calls and too little sleep. They were at Steve’s house, the natural place to crash after a job that had kept them on their feet for almost three days nonstop. The adrenaline finally seeping out of their systems as exhaustion set in. They were in the kitchen, taking a moment to lean against the countertops. And there was Steve, watching him with that _face_ —why didn’t he have a name for it yet?—leaning forward, and fisting his hand in Danny’s tie.

All Danny could think was, he should have seen this coming.

“Whoa,” he said, feeling himself jerked forward by the pull at his tie. “I know you have this irrational _thing_ when it comes to me and neckwear, but that’s no reason to ruin a perfectly good silk—”

“ _Danny._ ” That one word cut off his half-hearted protestations. Steve sounded drugged from the fatigue; his eyelids were drooping, eyelashes fanning out over his cheeks—and wow, Danny thought, he must be pretty far gone himself, that he was noticing all of that.

“Yes, Steven?” Even exhausted beyond the point of reason as he was, he couldn’t resist. And it was worth it, for the way Steve’s eyes flickered open, surprised, pupils dilating.

 _Should have seen this coming._

“C’mere,” was all that Steve said, loosening his hold on the tie to slide his hand around Danny’s neck.

It wasn’t forceful; Danny could pull out and away, if he wanted.

“No,” Danny said, and something passed over Steve’s features then, confusion and the barest touch of hurt. “You come here,” he clarified, reaching behind Steve’s ear to grasp at his stupidly short hair and pull him down.

And Steve did, leaning in to close the distance between them, pressing his lips against Danny’s. Three-day stubble rasped along both of their jaws, but Danny was past the point of caring. Steve kissed like he did everything else, with a laser focus, a single-minded determination. It was giving and taking, demanding, and giving back again, and it left Danny hard and aching in seconds.

“Couch,” Danny said, breaking off the kiss for a moment.

Steve was giving him that confused, lost-puppy expression, the one he gave whenever Danny explained to him the importance of not kicking down doors or riding a motorcycle through them. Or at least, he would be, if that expression included that mouth, lips slightly parted and red from kissing.

“Come on, you oversized giraffe-man,” Danny said, taking hold of Steve’s bicep, “I’m sure your extensive SEAL training gave you the skill and endurance to get off anywhere, but if we don’t move this to someplace horizontal soon, I’m going to get a crick in my neck, and need I remind you about my bad knee?”

Steve let out a laugh, low and throaty. “How could I forget when you constantly remind me?” he asked, but he was moving now, walking backwards towards the living room. It was unfair that he was so graceful even when he couldn’t see where he was going, and how was Danny supposed to resist the inviting sway of his hips?

Steve was stripping as he moved—because of course he would multitask at a time like this. The man was allergic to being fully clothed or something, not that Danny could complain too much, as he was treated to the sight of tanned muscles and inked skin. Steve was just thumbing open the fly on his cargo pants, revealing the hard curve of his erection, when he stopped, staring at Danny with something close to his aneurism face.

“You’re wearing too much,” he said, which was all the warning Danny got before Steve was pressing close, kissing him with maddeningly slow deliberation. His hands were on Danny’s tie again, pulling it free from its knot and letting it slither to the floor. His fingers began a path down the line of buttons on Danny’s shirt. Danny’s hands were not idle either, sliding around Steve’s waist to grope at his ass through slipping cargo pants and cotton boxer-briefs. Danny didn’t realize they had continued moving until he felt the backs of his legs hitting the armrest of the couch. Steve pulled back and slid to his knees without a word.

“I would just like to point out that this is not horizontal, though points for getting the couch part right,” Danny said, forcing his voice to remain steady. His next thought was derailed entirely as Steve swallowed his cock down in one smooth motion. Jesus, the man didn’t do anything halfway, did he? Danny’s shirt was open and slipping down his shoulders, and his trousers were pooled around his ankles. Danny was fortunate that the couch armrest was there for him to brace himself against, because his knees were already threatening to give out. He was aided further by Steve’s hands, bracketing his hips and holding him steady.

Danny’s own hands—never able to keep still unless they were occupied—found purchase in Steve’s hair. His grip wasn’t tight, though he couldn’t help the shallow thrusts his hips made. Steve groaned, throat working around his cock, and Danny slid one of his hands down, tracing the hollow of Steve’s cheek. He could feel the press of his own cock through the skin there. “Jesus, fuck,” the words spilled, unbidden, from his mouth, “I swear, I’ll never accidentally-on-purpose say that you were in the Army again when I know it’s really the Navy, just don’t fucking stop.”

Danny was close, dangerously so, and he tugged at Steve’s ear in warning, but Steve ignored it, working Danny’s cock, tracing the vein with his tongue. And then Danny was coming, spilling into Steve’s throat, and Steve just held himself there, nuzzling at Danny’s groin through the aftershocks. Danny shuddered, his entire body oversensitive, while Steve pulled off, looking far too smug for someone who had just sucked another person’s brains out through their dick. Actually, scratch that, the smugness was probably warranted.

“I have to say, I kinda like you inarticulate,” Steve said, rising to his feet and shedding his pants, socks, and shoes.

That got Danny’s attention. “I’ll show you inarticulate,” he growled. He disentangled himself from the remains of his clothing as quickly as his limbs would allow. Then, in a move that had aided him whenever he was at a significant height disadvantage (that is to say, always), he grabbed Steve, pulled him close, and hooked a leg behind his knee. Pivoting on his hip, he shifted his weight until Steve was off-balance, and dumped him onto the couch. It probably worked only because Steve was tired as hell, and wasn’t actually putting up much of a fight. He did seem surprised to be suddenly on his back, however.

Danny didn’t give Steve a chance to recover, straddling him, crowding into his space on the couch. It really wasn’t designed for this sort of activity—just on this side of awkward and uncomfortable—but Danny didn’t care. He would make this work.

He kissed Steve for a few moments, groaning at the traces of himself that he could taste in Steve’s mouth. The hard line of Steve’s erection pressed into his thigh, and Danny wished his refractory period was what it used to be. He slid down Steve’s torso, mouthing at his jaw, his nipples, his navel. He sat up then, and Steve groaned in frustration. Danny smacked his side in retaliation. Steve’s eyes darkened at the contact, pupils blown wide.

Danny grinned, and smacked Steve again, just hard enough for it to sting. “Should’ve known you’d be a kinky bastard. We’ll save that for another time, though. For now, scoot up a bit, your couch is too short for what I want to do.”

Steve raised a bemused eyebrow. “You’re very demanding, did you know that? ‘Come here,’ ‘Move to the couch,’ ‘Scoot up.’ For someone who just got blown, you’re pretty bossy.”

“For someone who’s about to get blown, you sure are complaining a lot,” Danny replied wryly.

That got Steve moving. He shifted back on the couch, giving Danny the room necessary to lean down and breathe against the cotton-covered outline of Steve’s erection. Steve’s eyelids fluttered closed, and Danny grinned again. Oh yeah, he would enjoy making Steve—stoic, badass, focused Steve—fall apart.

He eased the boxer-briefs down, nudging at Steve’s hips until they lifted, allowing him to pull them down and off. Leaning down, he licked at Steve’s cock, a slow stripe, letting his tongue linger around the head. Steve let out a noise close to a whine, desperate and needy.

“Mmm, what’s that?” Danny asked, tilting his head upwards for a moment. “Was that a complaint?”

“Fuck you,” Steve ground out, “You know what you’re doing.”

And yeah, okay, maybe Danny was a little smug, but he wasn’t cruel. He took Steve’s cock into his mouth, and Steve groaned out something that sounded suspiciously like finally. Danny kept his pace slow, maddening. Partly it was for his own benefit; he hadn’t done this in a while, and he didn’t have Steve’s Super SEAL “gag reflex, what gag reflex?” thing going. Also, he wanted to prove a point. What that point was, Danny wasn’t quite sure yet, but he was enjoying this, taking his time getting Steve off.

Steve’s cock was heavy in his mouth, and Danny alternated his rhythm until he found something that worked, running his tongue just beneath the head of Steve’s cock with each upstroke. He brought one of his hands to Steve’s balls, fondling them carefully, and then slid a finger just behind them, pressing at the perineum. Steve’s hips stuttered and he let out a string of broken curses.

Danny pulled off to look at Steve’s face—because no way was he missing Steve’s Orgasm Face, he wanted to commit it to memory. His hand continued to work Steve’s cock, twisting slightly against the head on every upward stroke.

“Yeah, c’mon babe, come for me,” Danny breathed.

It was beautiful, watching the graceful lines of Steve’s torso go rigid as he came, spilling over Danny’s hand and his own abdomen. They remained still for several moments, neither of them saying anything. Danny ran his fingers through the sticky mess, over the hairs on Steve’s belly. Steve’s breath hitched, and he watched Danny through half-lidded eyes. Danny was reminded of the fact that they hadn’t gotten any real sleep in three days.

“Much as I would like to never move again, we really should find ourselves a bed, unless this thing converts to a pull-out,” Danny said, gesturing at their couch.

Steve snorted indignantly, reaching for a box of tissues from the side table to clean himself up. “This isn’t your rat warren of an apartment. Of course there’s a bed.”

Steve was smiling, though, and Danny recognized that face. It was the smile that went all the way into his eyes, and yeah, maybe it made Steve look like a giant doofus, but there was more to it than that. Something along the lines of “I-can’t-contain-how-happy-you-make-me-sometimes”.

Or maybe that was the face Danny was giving Steve in return.

He would figure it out. He was a detective, after all.


End file.
